


Facing the Truth

by DarkHell616



Series: Broken Goods [8]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Infertility, Insecurity, discussions, pcos, talk of children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22624903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHell616/pseuds/DarkHell616
Summary: The aftermath of Spencer's interrogation with Cat could be make or break.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: Broken Goods [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1418539
Kudos: 39





	Facing the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Not going to lie, I have no idea what happens after season 12 apart from the odd bits and pieces I've seen here and there over the years, so things may not link up as they do in the series.

Unsurprisingly, things had become a little tense and undone upon Spencer’s return home, there was no expectation for anything else and yet it still felt disappointing and alien.

The likelihood of things ever being what they once were was small, barely even there in the back of my mind and I didn’t dare to ask him about his thoughts on it, no doubt his own head full of too many cluttered imaginings and things screaming for attention for it to be fair of me to dump my own musings and worries on him.

As a couple you fight things together, in most cases it’s you both against whatever is ailing one of you, but this was different, raw and so fresh that I don’t think either of us really knew where to begin beyond continuing to live under the same roof as we had done for a couple of months before his incarceration.

I argued with myself whether it was wise to take time off work, though decided in the end that perhaps he would want the space from the few hours of my absence.

The first few days were the hardest, but halfway through week two it began to smooth out once again into familiarity.

It seemed to be an unspoken agreement between us that we weren’t ready for the talk yet and we weren’t sure when we would be ready, so we continued on dancing the same dance to a tune that was now wonky but neither of had the heart to change.

To me, it didn’t feel like something that would break us but could shift the dynamic and that alone was scary enough without the thought of Spencer thinking the exact opposite, though he didn’t let it show if he did.

In fact, if anything he sought a little more comfort when we were alone.

There seemed to be touches that lingered for longer than they previous would, shared looks that read a thousand words and yet couldn’t coax us into pushing them out. He’d taken to stepping up behind me and wrapping me in his arms, whether I was stood at a kitchen counter, the oven or the bathroom sink.

If he needed that moment, then I wasn’t about to shrug him off unless needs must.

To make up for lost time, we tried to spend what free time we had together being carefree and enjoying one another’s company. One of my favourite things to do was to read to him as he relaxed into his seat and let himself just drift away wherever he went, sometimes he’d let me play with his hair, a bad habit I’d tried to curb but couldn’t resist.

This was a designated time that was typically initiated when I noticed that he looked particularly stressed or on the edge. If I spotted a particular look in his eye, I’d pick up the book I set beside the rarely turned on TV and turn around with a smile to say; “It’s Reiding time.”

The stupid joke always made me let out a short giggle and he’d smile at me, the faintest expression of relief coming over him as his shoulders dropped, like a weight had been lifted from him.

It was something that had started mostly from habit on my end, when I lived at home and someone seemed distressed, perhaps my youngest brother was sick or my dog was having a moment of fear due to the wind outside, I would sit or lie down with some, or snuggle in the dog’s case, and start reading aloud in a soft tone to help them relax.

I’d never thought of it before, but perhaps it was a comfort mechanism for myself as well.

We were entering the second week when he finally asked me if I wanted to hear stories about his time inside and although I was nervous, I said yes.

Spencer started to tell me the odd story here or there, spacing them out so neither of us got overwhelmed with the details that he no doubt had to recount for his team.

Thinking about that made me feel a little guilty, that I had no way to help and wasn’t qualified in any way that could be of aid to the BAU team, having to instead stay back and keep out of the way, more or less, so that I wasn’t putting a civilian needlessly at risk, even if it were only me.

I never brought this up because I didn’t want him to feel guilty about the circumstances of his job making me feel guilty, which would result in us going around and around the same circle of conversation.

I’d never ask him to leave his job and I understood that it was dangerous, but he enjoyed it to some extent and I wouldn’t want my paranoia and worry to pull him from something he liked to do.

Though a few times the subject of a change had come up, mostly after he’d finished with a quick check-up with his mother.

“She’s doing better,” he smiled in relief, sitting down.

“That’s good,” I replied cheerfully.

“I still wonder if I should be a little closer to her, just for a while.”

“We’ve talked about this before, sweetie,” I said, lowering my book to my lap, “there are options if that’s what you truly want to do.”

I propped my elbow against the back of the couch and rested my head on my hand, looking at him kindly.

“We could move closer, you could find some teaching jobs in the blink of an eye or maybe she can stay with us for a time.”

Spencer nodded, staring at the phone as his leg bounced a little.

“It’s definitely something to consider.”

No decision had been made by the third week, but he continued to keep close tabs on her while recuperating himself and we gradually grew closer than I had anticipated but hoped for.

This stronger bond, however, pushed me further into feeling guilty for not sharing my thoughts with him.

It was a vicious circle and I hated it, especially during the quiet moments alone at home, so I decided to distract myself with some cooking, music and terrible howling for us both.

Glancing to the clock, I took note that it was getting kind of late into the afternoon and so far, Spencer hadn’t called to say that he wouldn’t be home, so my plans were a go for the moment.

I was stirring some spices into the mince while merrily screaming along to Savage Garden’s I Want You when Spencer announced his arrival home, doing so by wrapping his arms around me and pressing a kiss to my cheek, making me jump mid-note.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump,” he said, though the sentence was hardly convincing with the laugh that broke it.

“Sure,” I rolled my eyes with a smile, “I totally believe you.”

He huffed another laugh, stooping to rest his head on my shoulder, “What are you making?”

“Enchiladas.”

“Oh, you’re spoiling me.”

“Only the best for you.”

“Is that why you’re wearing your glasses?”

I snickered and shook my head before tilting it to look at him as best as I could, “No, that was because I was reading and forgot to take them off. What is it with you and my glasses?”

“I think you look cute with them.”

Rolling my eyes, I involuntarily let out a snorted chuckle.

“Okay, now I know you’re creeping.”

He laughed softly and pulled away, moving around the kitchen behind me to make himself some coffee, my eyes trailed after him as I stirred the sauce into the mince.

“Earth to Reid, you gonna tell me what’s going on up there?”

There was a pause between us, his eyes trained on the mug he was stirring a mass amount of sugar with a hint of coffee into before he finally let out a long sigh and put the spoon in the sink, turning to face me.

“If they had been mine, her baby, would you have stuck around to raise them with me?”

My heart jolted, despite the clarified hypothetical behind the question, the thought still hurt too much to even consider.

That moment had been one of the worst of my life, even the months of intensive care, ventilators and a broken back couldn’t compare to the way that single moment stopped my world from spinning on its axis.

I knew that I was pausing for too long, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to say it.

The truth hurt me to think about, I didn’t want it to hurt Spencer to hear but it had to be said.

“No,” I finally said, my voice so quiet I barely heard it myself, “I don’t think I could have.”

There it was, the flash of pain and a dying light that I dreaded to see.

“Please, don’t think of it personally,” I rushed to add, my grip on the wooden spoon tightening, “it’s about me, completely.”

“I had my suspicions, I already know how everything with Cat affected you, but even knowing doesn’t make it feel any easier to hear.”

I nodded slowly, having to turn away from seeing his sombre expression.

“I know and I’m sorry, I hate it, Spence, I hate feeling this way and knowing that, despite how much I love you, I couldn’t watch as you raised another woman’s child.”

“Because you worry that you can’t have your own?”

“Yes, seeing you raising and being happy would kill me if it was with someone else,” I huffed a near broken laugh, trying to push back the coughed sob that almost erupted as my lip quivered just a little. “Which is selfish and I don’t like thinking that way, but it’s why I’ve always had a ‘no dads’ dating rule, I couldn’t stand the thought of not being that person.”

“Of being considered what? Unworthy? Broken?”

“Yes, exactly, which is stupid but it’s like knowing I may not be able to have children makes me want them more.”

“Then why don’t we try?”

My stirring paused as I looked at him over my shoulder, “Pardon?”

“Let’s get a fertility test.”

“Spencer,” I licked my bottom lip, the words momentarily dying on my tongue, “are you saying…”

“I am,” he nodded his confirmation, his fingers drumming on his coffee mug, “I have my trepidations about it as well, considering everything on my side of the family, but I’m serious about this, I think I’m ready if you are to start trying for our own.”

“This is a huge step, what if I am?”

“It is, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and I want this if you do, if you are then there’s other ways. Adoption is always an option.”

“That’s true, a good option as well,” I smiled weakly, feeling a tear roll down my cheek, “I agree, I really do want this with you.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up as he smiled widely and strode across the room, leaning down to give me a kiss and wipe away the stray tear.

“I’m glad we had this brief talk and got it out in the open, I was getting worried that we were drifting apart,” he said, finally taking a sip of his coffee after.

“Same here, honestly, it was a nightmare holding it all in but I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

“It eats you up quickly, I was worried that you were getting annoyed with me at times.”

“No, it was more that I was annoyed at myself for being such a weak-ass bitch. Though everyone has something that annoys someone else, it’s nature, like I can’t stand the way you say guillotine but I can look past it because I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He took another sip of coffee and then paused for a moment, eventually frowning down at me.

“What’s wrong with how I say guillotine?”

“Let’s not get into it.”


End file.
